


Muted

by Guardian_Rose



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: Angst, Background: Dorian/Lavellan, Established Relationship, Fluff, Happy Ending, Humour (?), Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-04
Updated: 2018-03-04
Packaged: 2019-03-27 00:56:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13869666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Guardian_Rose/pseuds/Guardian_Rose
Summary: He tried to call up his magic to the surface, but there was nothing. A jarring nothing where his magic should have been. Fenris crouched down next to him, he was shaking him. There was more yelling, a little further away. It sounded like someone was yelling Dorian’s name, Lavellan and Bull maybe.“Hawke, talk to me. What’s wrong? Hawke?” Fenris was panicked but his touch was still achingly gentle as he turned Hawke’s head to look at him.“Templar.” He ground out through gritted teeth; Fenris’ eyes flashed with fury and he was on his feet again.





	Muted

Hawke hadn’t felt so at peace as he currently was since that treasured period of time inbetween Fenris returning to him and the city burning. Skyhold was vast and despite the hundreds of people who lived there, there were plenty of places to stay out of sight if one knew what to look for. It had been a couple of months since Adamant. He had let Varric persuade him to get some rest and supplies at Skyhold before leaving to find the Wardens, which just so happened to be when Fenris had arrived looking for him. After a lot of...discussion, he’d agreed to let the Inquisitor send someone else to alert the Wardens of Stroud’s death. Lavellan hadn’t even put up a token argument which had helped reassure him that he was making the right decision.

 

“What are you thinking about?” Fenris nudged him gently, concern pulling his lips into a frown.

 

Hawke nudged him back with a smile, putting his cards down on the table in order to brush his thumb along the markings on Fenris’ chin. “Just that you were right to stop me from going to Weisshaupt, this is much better.” 

 

Fenris visibly relaxed, his frown fading back into the soft smile that Hawke was proud to know what becoming more of a default when they were together than his old brooding glare. He caught Hawke’s hand and lifted it up to press a kiss to his knuckles. 

 

“I told you so.” Fenris said quietly.

 

“Were they always like this?” Dorian asked loudly, clearly directing his question at Varric who just laughed. Fenris bristled but didn’t let go of Hawke’s hand, just rested their interlocked fingers on the table between them before picking up his own cards again. Hawke shook his head with a bemused grin, he knew the other mage meant no disrespect, after all he was just as bad at times with Lavellan.

 

“Oh, I wish. I don’t know which is worse, to be honest with you Sparkles. This or when they hadn’t figured things out, the amount of tension was insufferable.” Varric teased from next to Hawke.

 

He saw Fenris’ head drop to hide his blush from the others to his right; they were both used to Varric’s teasing but he knew it sometimes caught Fenris off guard. He didn’t expect the apologetic look from Lavellan directly across the table from him, it was nice though. To know that the Inquisitor noticed things too, noticing things kept people alive which was his job and from what Hawke could tell, an inborn instinct similar to his own. 

 

After a few more rounds of Wicked Grace, and a few more drinks for Hawke but only one more for Fenris, Varric left the two couples on their own. They tried to play a game without the dwarf but quickly came to the conclusion that they were all too competitive to play without Varric to keep them from getting into fights like petulant children over who was cheating and how. Dorian tried to excuse himself to sleep but Lavellan dragged him back down into his seat, much to Hawke’s amusement, so that they could share stories from their travels. As it turned out, Lavellan was a devout fan of Tales of the Champion and had far more questions than either him or Fenris had even thought could be asked. 

 

The tavern was slowly getting quieter as the night wore on. Hawke, happily tipsy, tugged a drowsy Fenris closer until the elf himself moved to sit on his lap so that he could rest his head against Hawke’s chest and doze to the soothing hum of Hawke’s speech. Lavellan was in a similar state as Hawke, Dorian was practically sober though.

 

“Garrett?”

 

Hawke hummed in reply, acknowledging that he was listening by pressing a featherlight kiss to Fenris’ hair, Hawke had plaited it earlier that night and tied it in place with the red favour from Fenris’ wrist. He still wore it every second of every day. Even after all the time that had gone by.

 

“How much longer are we staying?” 

 

“We can go now if you want, Dorian just wandered off to talk to Bull and Lavellan is about to go after him.”

 

“No, I’m not!” Lavellan squawked, a slightly affronted look on his face. Hawke wasn’t sure whether the pink tinge was due to the alcohol or an actual blush.

 

“Trust me, friend. You are. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you two stay more than two feet away from each other for long if you’re in the same room.” Hawke said with a teasing smile.

 

“I could say the same about you two.” The Inquisitor huffed; Hawke raised an eyebrow at his crossed arms until the elf gave in and bid them goodnight.

 

For a brief moment, Hawke considered just carrying Fenris back to their room. It had been known to happen in the old Estate in Kirkwall but that was when there had been no one around to witness. And had normally involved an injury that forced the elf to accept the help. 

 

“Hawke, I know what you’re thinking and if you try it I will fight you.” Fenris muttered, pulling away from where he’d been leaning in order to glare at him; with his hair tucked neatly into the braid, there were only a couple of strands of hair that framed his face, Hawke couldn’t resist pressing a kiss to his cheek.

 

“I would never.” 

 

“Of course you wouldn’t.” Fenris tapped Hawke’s hands that were settled on his waist and he let go so that the elf could stand up and stretch. “Come on, it’s late and Cullen wants me to help with training tomorrow which means that at least one of us has an early morning.”

 

“Fenris, I’ll be awake whenever you are. Like I’m going to miss out on a chance to watch you kick some templar ass.” Hawke pushed himself up and away from the table, wobbling a little as the room spun around him before finding its equilibrium again.

 

“Cullen will rope you in if he spots you.” Fenris argued, a smirk lighting up his face as he stepped backwards to give Hawke space to walk round the table but he accidentally stepped back into a man twice his size who pushed Fenris back, spitting out a string of words that sobered Hawke up instantly.

 

He pulled Fenris behind him by the wrist and pulled himself up to his full height, glaring menacingly down at the offender who winced but stood his ground. 

 

“What did you just say to him?” He asked, keeping his voice icily cold despite the red-hot fury racing through him, he could feel the familiar sparks of electricity lighting up around his fists. 

 

“You heard me.” The man hissed, clearly trying to hide his fear behind his own anger. 

 

Hawke grabbed the front of the man’s shirt, purposefully fuelling the lightning that was now illuminating both their faces. It crackled along his skin as he pulled the man closer; Fenris snapped his name at him but Hawke ignored it. “Do you go around calling everyone that? Or just him?”

 

“He ain’t special, just another maker-damned knife-ear.” The man spat the last word into Hawke’s face; he growled and shoved him away in disgust.

 

“Do you call your Inquisitor that too, huh? I bet you don’t, so what makes it right for you to-” 

 

Hawke’s lightning fizzled out, like someone had dropped a massive weight on top of him from above. He dropped to his knees, unable to stand the weight. It was like his blood had turned to iron in his veins… He tried to call up his magic to the surface, but there was nothing. A jarring nothing where his magic should have been. Fenris crouched down next to him, he was shaking him. There was more yelling, a little further away. It sounded like someone was yelling Dorian’s name, Lavellan and Bull maybe.

 

“Hawke, talk to me. What’s wrong? Hawke?” Fenris was panicked but his touch was still achingly gentle as he turned Hawke’s head to look at him.

 

“Templar.” He ground out through gritted teeth; Fenris’ eyes flashed with fury and he was on his feet again. 

 

Hawke could do nothing but watch as Fenris forced the man onto his front on the ground, one arm twisted against his back as he cried out for the elf to stop,his lyrium was burning brightly against his skin. Hawke knew that it hurt him to use the lyrium, even if he was used to it. He hadn’t seen him so filled with rage since they’d fought Danarius. 

 

“Fen...stop, it’s not worth it.” He could hear himself slur the words, he was tired all of a sudden. Very,  _ very _ tired... 

 

Someone was talking to Fenris...was that him? It was probably him. He tried to stand up but fell flat on his face, what the hell sort of templar was he? Was this normal? It would be so easy to fall asleep. Someone was making the floor shake. He opened his eyes to see Bull pulling Fenris off the templar, they were yelling. Lavellan was moving closer, Dorian leaning against him. He was a mage, why wasn’t he lying pathetically on the floor too? That was unfair. There were hands on him now, they were trying to turn him over. He didn’t want to. He wanted to sleep, maybe Fenris would stop trying to wake him up and would go to sleep with him. That’d be nice. He didn’t like not sleeping next to him.

 

*****

 

The sunlight was forcing his eyes open, forcing him to acknowledge the pounding in his head and the world around him. Hawke hated the sun. He turned away and rolled right into Fenris who awoke with a start.

 

“Garrett, you’re awake. How do you feel?” 

 

Hawke blinked a couple of times, why did Fenris have a cut along his cheek? When had that happened?

 

“What happened?” He asked groggily.

 

“You blacked out. I had to carry you all the way back to our room after that mage made sure you weren’t in anymore danger.” Fenris brushed a hand through Hawke’s hair; the braid was gone and the favour was back on the elf’s wrist, the ends of it lightly tickling Hawke’s face. 

 

“Shit. How badly did he hurt you?”

 

Fenris chuckled. “He didn’t, the cut is from Bull when he pulled me off the templar so I didn’t kill him. He has already apologised, so don’t go attacking him next.” 

 

“I wasn’t going to let that piece of trash get away with what he called you!” 

 

“I’ve heard worse, Hawke.”

 

“Doesn’t make it right.”

 

“That is fair. Just...try to be careful.” Fenris looked down at their linked hands.

 

“I will try.” Hawke relented.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Thanks again to my friend Dan for beta-ing! <3
> 
> Thanks for reading! <3
> 
> Any and all comments welcome! Especially prompts! <3
> 
> Find me on Tumblr @guardian-rose-petal


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